Surreptitious
by vanillafluffy
Summary: Jim Gordon bonds with his teenage daughter, Barbara. But can she keep secret his partnership with the Gotham's mysterious avenger?


All the usual disclaimers apply; I own the DVD, period. This is the first movie I've seen featuring Gary Oldman where I honestly _liked_ his character. I wanted to take my own stab at refreshing canon...so here's a little something with Jim Gordon and his daughter Barbara.

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**Surreptitious**

Dealing with the Batman gave Jim Gordon the shakes more often than not. After his ally in crime-fighting vanished between one heartbeat and the next, Gordon started to open the back door, then stopped, letting it bang into place. He leaned against the porch support, taking a deep breath. June was upstairs putting the baby to bed---in the glow of the porch light, he could see her moving against the lit window that signaled Debbie's bathtime, so he might as well take a moment to settle his nerves.

June would read him the riot act if she found out about his unorthodox partnership, and after the failure of his first marriage, Jim was taking no chances. He didn't want to give her any reason to suspect there was anything unusual going on. There was a creak behind him, and he heard his older daughter Barbara's blurt, "That was so cool! How did you do that?"

"Practice," said a succinct voice, and Gordon stood motionless. He hadn't heard Barbara's scooter chugging up the alleyway---_How long was she there?_ he wondered, worried. _Did she hear us talking?_

"I'm on the gymnastics team at school," his intrepid offspring said. "Watch this!"

The fire escape clunked and groaned. One of the stars of the West Gotham High team, the petite junior often worked off excess energy on the rusty structure. Turning to look, her father watched Barbara execute a graceful series of maneuvers, then dismount with a showy somersault. She glanced up, past her father, and disappointment crossed her face. Another one of the Batman's surreptitious exits, he guessed.

"Not bad," conceded the Batman's deep voice, now well to Jim's left. Looking in that direction, Gordon saw a flutter of the crusader's cape disappear over the roofline.

For the first time, Barbara noticed her father in the dimness beneath the overhang of the porch. "Dad! Did you see---?"

Putting a finger to his lips, the detective stepped down to stand closer to her. "You can't tell anyone about this. Please, Barbara. It would upset your mother."

"She may be your wife, but she is _not _my mother," she said with spirit. Jim Gordon felt helpless to soothe her resentment. Turning her back on him, she strode over to where her scooter was propped against the wall. Barbara released her backpack from its bungie cords and began the ritual of locking the scooter up for the night. She looked like her mother; petite and slender...

Jim winced. The dangers he faced in his job had been one of the reasons her mother had divorced him. His ex-wife got custody of their daughter and was in the process of relocating when she was killed in a traffic accident. At the time, Barbara was nine. She'd been unhappy about his marriage to June three years later, and wasn't too thrilled by the baby sister she'd acquired eighteen months ago.

"Okay," he agreed, keeping his voice low. "She's not your mother. But June cares about us both, and if she finds out he was here, she'll panic. She doesn't know anything about him except for what's been in the newspapers."

The sixteen-year old regarded him for a long moment. "This is some kind of super secret police business, right?" Clearly, that was what she hoped to hear.

Drawing in a lungful of air, he tried to find an honest explaination for her. "Yes, it is a secret," Gordon admitted at last, "but it's not official business. The man who was here has saved my life---he's saved a lot of lives, Barbara, but there are bad people who would try to use me to get to him---and that means you and June and Debbie could be in danger if it came out that I work with him. Understand?"

There was a thoughtful expression on her face. "Do _you _know who he is?"

"No, I don't need to know. I don't _want _to know. The only thing that really matters is that the Batman is the best friend that Gotham has."

"And he's got some awesome moves," she pointed out. "I wonder if I'll ever be that good."

He rested a hand on the shoulder of her school jacket. "My girl's got some nice moves of her own," he praised her.

"Thanks, Dad." She gave him an unexpected smile and a peck on the cheek as she opened the screen door. "I've got a history test to study for. Good night."

No promise that she'll keep quiet, Jim thought. But I think she likes the idea of us having a secret from June. I'll have to keep my fingers crossed...

Barbara was as good as her word; she took a sandwich and a glass of milk up to her room and immersed herself in books and class notes for two hours, then went to bed. Gordon was relieved; his daughter might have inherited his stubborn streak, but compared to some of the kids he saw in the line of duty, Barbara was an angel_. Team sports, community service, good grades..._ _If she gets a scholarship to the right college, she could make a better life for herself than anything I could give her._

In the morning, Barbara remained discreet. She made pleasant conversation over breakfast about the volunteer work she was doing for her civics credit, hit him up for gas money for her scooter, speculated about whether she should take lunch or risk the cafeteria's idea of meatloaf--- "Yours is much better!" she told June, who was startled by the compliment---and in general behaved as if she'd never had a close encounter with Gotham's most mysterious citizen. She didn't even protest when June called her "Barbie"; at any other time, she would have snapped back with, "I'm not a stupid doll!"

All in all, the secret stayed one hundred percent secret for just under ten hours. Then Jim Gordon had to satisfy June with a creative explaination for the new motorbike parked out back that sent Barbara into whoops of glee when she went outside to leave for school. His wife believed his tale of recovering a truckload of bikes for a grateful motorcycle dealership, but the detective suspected the true source of the futuristic-looking cycle, and so, he was sure, did Barbara.

As his daughter vroomed down the alley on her new prize and June returned to the breakfast table to finish feeding Debbie, Jim Gordon stood on the back porch, trying to quell the shakes.


End file.
